Things that have happened

Whole essays could be written about people playing music off their mobile phones in public (and I imagine the Daily Mail and the Diana Express have both spanked plenty of cash on this type of story), but the fundamental issue is the fact that it’s so annoying not because you are forced to listen to music against your will, but because the sound quality of modern phones is so completely unacceptable. If I had a mobile phone that produced such tinny and abrasive noise, not only would it remain in a perpetual state of silence, I’d be far too ashamed to want to play music out of it, even in my room, let alone on a bus full of people who would scowl at me and take pity on me for having such a piece of shit phone. No, the problem isn’t the fact you don’t want to listen to music. That happens everywhere. Hollister, as well as using pretty much every other commercial gimmick in the book, positively blasts the shit out. I went past a branch of the Principality today which was pumping out something that could have been classified as dance or something. The Principality isn’t a high street shop aimed at wannabe-hip teens, it’s a Welsh building society geared towards offering either an extremely low interest rate if you want to entrust them with your hard-earned cash, or an extortionate rate should you wish to ask for a hand buying a house. Having music – good or otherwise – thrust into your earholes when you’re out and about is not something new, not something necessarily unpleasant (although I’d think twice about visiting the Principality today), and definitely not something to whinge about. What should be held up for inspection, however, is how the fuck these phones get produced, get through testing, get bought by customers of their own volition and how the owners drum up the courage to force some naff tune out of their tiny little speakers.